Of All the Things
by Bookreader525
Summary: She sits in the same cafe every day, in the same chair by the same window, searching. Little did she know, the exact thing she was looking for has been nearby all along. One shot.


**I, the notorious procrastinator, have finally finished this thing in the nick of time! This is my Secret Santa gift for merryvices. I hope you and anyone else who arrives here enjoys this! Happy holidays, ya'll.**

* * *

The first time she spotted him was through the cafe window. The owners had finally gotten around to cleaning it, and all the smudges and smears were wiped away to reveal a crystal-clear view to the street outside.

It was remarkable. Jessica glanced up from her laptop screen, and her fingernails dug into her coffee cup. He was there for just a moment, or maybe two; a swift and fleeting thing wearing a smile and a pair of eyes that were focused on the path ahead of him.

She returned to the cafe the next morning with Sam.

"I'm surprised you like this place so much," her friend remarked as they walked up to the counter.

"Yeah, well, it's..." Jess swung her head around, scouring every corner of the tiny place for something to like. It seemed impossible at first - the floor was dirty, the tables and chairs dingy and mismatched, the pictures and art on the walls covered in a layer of dust. The entire cafe stank of neglect and mediocre coffee. Then she turned her attention to the big picture window up front, with the cafe's name and number printed backwards over top in a cheesy "sophisticated" script.

"... it's quaint," she finally stated. "Charming. And I love that window by the front."

"Let's sit there, then," Sam suggested as she grabbed her pastry and coffee.

And they did. Chairs scraped against the worn oak floor, and elbows leaned on the wobbly table with uneven legs. The thin paperback novel that had been shoved under one leg to keep it stable was accidentally kicked away, and Jess was too busy stirring cream into her coffee to bother replacing it.

She watched the swirl of white melt into the coffee. It reminded Jess of the way she dissolved into her surroundings. Sam was talking, but Jess wasn't listening. The hustle and bustle of the cafe faded into silence around her. The people walking on the street outside were muted, as if Jess had lifted a TV remote and pressed the volume button all the way down to the absolute minimum. She made sure to nod once in a while, to cement Sam's belief that she was listening, that she was aware of the world around her, that she wasn't just a ditz. Jess had tried with all her might to suppress the label that had been slapped ruthlessly on her back in their high school days, but still she just could not focus.

"There must be something wrong with me," she said. And all at once, the world came rushing back. Clinking plates and hushed murmurs exchanged between cashier and customer returned - "One chocolate croissant, please," "That'll be $4.50" - and the skipping of feet on wintry sidewalks just through the window again filled her eyes. A small dog scuttled by the cafe, button nose turned upward as his little legs pranced and dodged clumps of snow, like he was the tour guide showing the town to the human at the other end of the leash. And Jess looked back at Sam, who was blinking at her with a confused expression.

"Something wrong with you? What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Jess said airily, waving a limp hand at her friend. "I'm just being weird."

Sam's eyebrows scrunched up in their signature way, like they always did whenever she didn't believe what was coming out of Jessica's mouth. She did the same thing to Josh, and to the rest of the group.

"Jess, you can't just _say_ something like that and then not tell me! Come on, what's up?"

The other girl drummed her fingernails on the table, which wobbled along to the nervous beat. She fixed a stiff smile and firm eyes on Sam, and spoke right as he walked by again. "I'm fine."

 **oo0oo**

She couldn't escape him. It was like an invisible force that sucked her back to that shitty cafe, again and again and again. When even patient Sam couldn't stand the trips anymore, Jess started dragging Josh along. And Josh, being his typical self, would order a mountain of pastries and a hot chocolate; and Jess, being her typical self, would snatch up her coffee and pull him over to the table by the window, and stir in the swirl of cream and wait for him to walk past.

"So, Sam said you've been coming here a lot," he commented, casually leaning back against his chair. His fingers worked mercilessly on the chunk of fried dough blanketed in powdered sugar. He tore a piece off and stuck it in his mouth. "A lot, as in every day."

She nodded. "Yeah. I like it. It's-"

"- quaint," he finished for her. "Charming. And peaceful, right?"

Jess rolled her eyes at him and returned her gaze to the window. "Yep."

It had gotten so bad, the cafe employees now knew her by name. She didn't even have to speak for them to know what she wanted to order. It was scary. But hell, it was better they knew her _here_ than at the local McDonald's.

Days later, the window was getting dirty again. Jess considered going up to the counter and asking if they could clean it, since the owner treated her like an old family friend now. She would even take the Windex bottle and rag herself and wipe the smudges away.

When Jess spotted him through the window that day, something changed. His grin was replaced by a frown. His brow was furrowed, and as he walked closer to the window, she noticed stress lines carved into his forehead. Jess stiffened - he was approaching the cafe! _This_ shoddy place? Seriously? She straightened her back and tensed until she was stiff as a board.

The guy was really considering it. He froze in the middle of the sidewalk, and annoyed people shoved past him. It was getting close to the holiday season, and already the most aggressive shoppers were out and hunting for bargains. It did make sense to want to take a break from all that and shelter inside with a cup of coffee. But _here_? In a Starbucks, maybe, that would be nice. But definitely not here.

Despite her doubts, the guy walked in. He had taken his time sizing up the place, and the moment he entered his nose wrinkled, as if he had stepped into a pigsty rather than a cozy (albeit dusty) cafe. And her heart fluttered upward toward her throat.

His neck swiveled all around, taking in the place. He trudged up to the counter and scanned over the bakery selections, eyes squinted like he was trying to decode the difficult choice one had to make between a chocolate croissant or a slice of cheesecake.

Then he stood on his tiptoes a bit - she never noticed how short he was - and she almost heard him. His voice was quiet, but she acknowledged its deepness joining in and melding with the other voices in the cafe. He pointed to something behind the glass case. The employee retrieved the pastry, dropped in a paper bag, took the guy's money, and then the guy was gone.

She never even got his eye color. But she liked to imagine they were green.

 **oo0oo**

The Washingtons' mansion was as elaborate as ever, but even more so than usual considering the season. Garlands and ribbons of rich reds and golds twirled up the railing of the grand staircase in the foyer. The lights of their eight-foot-tall tree were visible from the street all the way at the bottom of the hill, and now that Jess was inside, it was all the more impressive than the dinky artificial miniature tree she had carelessly set up in the corner of her dorm room.

"Welcome to our humble abode," Josh greeted her as she walked in and shouldered off her jacket. He grabbed it and threw it into the coat closet on top of all the stinky shoes, as any self-respecting butler would do.

Jess stomped the snow out of her boots and kicked them off, laughing. "Yeah, yeah, this sure is a humble mansion you got here."

The whole group wasn't there tonight; Hannah and Beth were out shopping, Ashley was on vacation with her family, Emily and Matt were on a date. This left Chris, Josh, Sam, and Mike. Oh, joy.

Josh led her back to the movie room, then proceeded to fight Chris to the death for the comfy bean bag closest to the screen. Sam was situated in one of the red recliners off to the side, and she offered a wave.

"Bring one of those pastries from the cafe?" she teased, and Jess stuck out her tongue at her. Then, at long last, her gaze dragged over to Mike.

Like the dumbass he was, he was decked out in shorts and short sleeves (reminder: it was _December_ ) and all spread out like a starfish over his recliner. His feet had on socks that used to be white but were now all dirty and gray. Thank god they weren't bare, at least. The smell of those toes alone could make an entire roomful of people faint.

"Hey," he said as she collapsed into a seat a few down from him. "And just how is her royal highness doing on this fine evening?"

She crossed her arms. "Her royal highness is Emily, you should know that."

"Alrighty then, princess," Mike drawled.

Chris won the bean bag privileges for the night, and Josh growled that in that case, he got to pick the movie. It was a horror flick, no shock there, but hey, at least it was holiday-themed! Jess squeezed her eyes shut for all the bad parts, which meant she slept for almost the entire thing.

When it was over, people trickled out to their cars. It wasn't until they were halfway down the long-ass driveway when Mike caught up to her, not a coat, hat, or gloves in sight, and said, "Hey, I forgot to ask earlier, but could you give me a ride?"

Jess wished the ability to shoot daggers from one's eyes was a real thing. "Are you kidding me? You ask _now_?"

Mike sighed, then started to fish in his pocket for something. He pulled the object out and offered it to her. "Will this help convince you?"

She looked at it pointedly. It was a stupid gift card to Target. For a whopping ten dollars. "Wow, it sure will be hard to pass up _that_ deal," Jess said. "But _no thanks_."

"Come on, please! I had to walk here and I almost froze my ass off!"

She began walking quicker down the driveway. "Here's a suggestion: wear a damn jacket next time!"

He caught up to her fast. "I didn't feel like it," he argued. "Jess, listen, _please_ give me a ride. You know where I live, it isn't far. Just ten minutes out of your way. Then I promise I will never ask again."

A couple minutes later, she was pulling out of the Washingtons' fancy-ass gated community with a shivering Munroe in the passenger seat next to her. "Does your heat work?" he asked through chattering teeth.

She shrugged, turning back onto the main drag. "I dunno. Why, are you a little chilly?"

"Yes!"  
"Wonder how that could be."

"Jessica, come on."

She scowled and turned the dial all the way up to full power. Heat blasted in their faces, and Mike sniffed. "That enough warmth for you?" Jess yelled.

He grunted, and she reached to turn the heat down somewhat. They drove in silence, watching the speckled night sky and blurred headlights of other cars through the windows. Her vision began to tunnel, eyes dully focused on the glaring red tail lamps of the car in front of them. When they crossed under the string of blinking lights that marked the entrance to the shopping area, she almost forgot to notice.

They stopped at a red light, stuck behind a million other last-minute holiday shoppers. People rushed in and out of the little boutiques. The line of cars shifted up, and a SUV backed out of its parking space. Jess let the person slide in ahead of her, and then the familiar window caught her eye. It was strange seeing the name of the cafe written forwards rather than backwards. And without warning, she hit the gas and guided the car into the now empty space in front.

"Um..." Mike said.

"If I'm already going on a detour for you, Michael, you can go on a little detour for me," Jess snapped. She hopped out of the car and marched right inside the almost empty place. A few seconds after she entered, the bell jingled again. Even the usually cheerful bell jingled a bit less enthusiastically when it signified Mike's entrance. Jess agreed wholeheartedly with that.

"Sorry, but we're just about to close-" The girl behind the counter stopped when she spun around, and her face lit up with recognition. "Oh, hello, Jess! Would you like your usual?"

It was so strange being here at night. It was even darker and dingier. The big window up front only let a single ray of moonlight filter in. Jess shivered and answered, "Yes, please." She handed over the cash and took the coffee, not bothering to wait and see if Mike was ordering something too.

"So this is the place, huh?" he asked, following her over to the table by the window like an obedient puppy. He hadn't gotten anything; apparently Target gift cards weren't valid here.

"Uh-huh," Jess answered. When she lifted her gaze to the window, she was only met with emptiness. "I... I used to watch out this window all the time."

"Why?"

She gave a half-hearted shrug. "I was waiting for someone to walk by."

"Who?"

Jess glared at him. This wasn't a freaking interview and he wasn't a freaking reporter, so why was she answering his questions? "This cute guy. It was nothing, really. But I acted like it was everything! I couldn't focus on anything else except him. Then one day, he..." She paused, her eyes flitting from the sidewalk and lights outside to him. Munroe was looking at her attentively. "He came in, and we didn't even make eye contact once. He just went in, bought something, and went right back out."

"He didn't notice you?"

"No." She chuckled. "But why would he? He didn't know who I was. And for some reason, I acted like I knew his entire life story just from seeing him for a few seconds every day. I pretended he was always on his way to work, or maybe on his way to this epic super-secret mission. I pretended maybe he walked by here every day to see me out the corner of his eye. But I have no idea what color his eyes were, and I didn't even know his name."

Mike made a faint sound, and she stared steadily at him. "You know my name."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"And you know what color my eyes are."

She leaned over the table to glower at him some more. She wanted to make sure he could see her glowering at him. If he didn't notice, then what was the reason for glowering at him? "I sure do," she replied. "Boring, dull, brown."

When he kissed her, she was a statue for a second or two. His eyes were wide open, still locked in some intense, angst-ridden battle with hers. Her lips were frozen against his. She wondered how many other mouths his mouth had touched, and how many other tongues his had danced with, and how many other sets of teeth his had awkwardly clicked against.

He pulled back, and rubbed his stubble with a hesitant thumb. "You didn't like that?"

"I told you, I don't like..." But all of a sudden, she couldn't speak. The back of her chair was rock-hard, so she winced and leaned forward again. "I don't like brown eyes."

"I meant the, um, kiss," he pointed out.

"No," she spat. "It was terrible."

They left and walked back out to her car. Silence consumed them, shrieking into her ears and making every muscle quiver. When she pulled up to the curb in front of his place five minutes later, he wasted no time kicking open his door and climbing out. Her hand jerked forward and fingers clasped his burly arm, yanking him back down into the sedan.

"What?" Mike asked.

Jess put the car into park and pressed her elbow uncomfortably into the center console and collided her face with his. Both their eyes stayed open. It was unsettling.

"I am so confused right now," he said, separating from her with a sigh. "What do you want from me?"

"I... I'm not sure," she told him. And it was true. Mike was the most annoying one in the group - that was saying something considering the existence of Josh Washington - and Jess hated his guts. He was a womanizer who always brought some poor chick home after a party, and never passed up any opportunity to protect his super-tough and manly ego from any blows. Emily had dated him once, and she advised Jess to avoid all Munroe men at any cost. And most of all, Jess hated those brown eyes.

So she kissed him again, her rib cage digging into the console as she strained to reach him. She kissed him until she had no breath left, and it was when she was staring into his eyes again as his lips moved rhythmically with hers that she fell into the brown depths. They were warm, and cuddly, like the steam from her coffee rising into her face as she stirred in the swirl of cream. She thought about that guy through the frosty cafe window, and realized that she hoped his eyes, wherever they were looking, and whether they were closed in slumber or wide open and awake - she hoped his eyes were brown, too.

Jess finally let Mike go, and together they laughed.

"You're a strange one, Riley," he said to her.

"I know. Now shoo."

He opened his door and again started to rise up out of the car, but then she grabbed his shirt sleeve and he ducked his head back in for just a moment.

"One more thing," Jess muttered. "Next time we do that, close your eyes. Please."

And he did.


End file.
